A Lover's Crush
by HodrichMaid
Summary: This is a prequel to "A Lover's Gift" which explains how America and Russia ended up as a couple. More chapters to come! (If you like it, of course)
1. Chapter 1

It was lunchtime in the UN Building, and the World Meeting had been over by an hour. Some nations had already left to have lunch at their respective hotel rooms, but the vast majority of them had stayed at the cute little restaurant in the ground floor. Russia didn't know what to do because he didn't want to eat alone in his bedroom, his sister wouldn't talk to him because of her boss and he was scared to go with his other sister, so he decided to eat alone but accompanied by the other nations around him in the restaurant in the only available table that there was.

He ordered a salad and water, but before the waiter could appear with his dietetic meal, which he didn't dare to call a meal, as it looked more like a snack than a proper meal, he saw a familiar blonde walk through the entrance of the restaurant and look around for an empty table. He sighed when he didn't find one, knowing that if he wanted to eat something (which he always wanted) he would have to seat with Russia.

Rolling his eyes, he approached Russia's table and sat down right in front of the Russian man who was looking down at his cell phone. He had just received a text message from his boss and he would have to hurry up and eat before meeting him in about half an hour. When he looked up and saw the American, his eyes widened.

"What are you doing here, America?"

Said man sighed (again) and looked at his former enemy.

"I just wanted to eat and there was nowhere else I could seat. I hope you don't mind"

Russia was surprised to hear America... asking for permission to seat with him?

"No... I don't"

"Of course you don't, commie. Who would ever complain to be around me?"

America laughed loudly and Russia sunk deeper into his seat. The American's egocentrism reminded him that of certain albino he had fought several times. Before he could think of a clever comeback, the waiter appeared with his salad and his water, which America looked like if it was something from Mars, and took the other's order. And Russia had to force himself to not roll his eyes when he ordered a hamburger with fries and a Coke.

When the waiter had left to get the American's order, he looked up from Russia's food at his face with a smug smirk in his face.

"Dieting, commie?"

Russia choked on his water and tightened his grip around his fork with anger at the younger man's impertinence. How dare he ask him something like that? Who the hell did he think he was? Well, he certainly didn't have the body of a model to criticise others'. He decided to avoid the subject and, instead, talked about something else... which also angered but not as much as the main topic.

"You know I'm not communist anymore, don't you?"

"Well, my bad... ex-commie"

Russia sighed and poked his salad with his fork, but he fumed with anger, so he looked up once again.

"Why don't you treat China like that, huh? You treat him well, as if nothing bothered you about him, and you even ask him for favours!"

America laughed obnoxiously, drawing a little attention from surrounding tables.

"Is the ex-commie jealous about my relationship with China?"

"... what, aru?"

Russia was terribly embarrassed to be forced as the centre of attention in the restaurant, as everyone was looking at him after America's comment. He looked down at his plate and mumbled something the obnoxious American couldn't hear, and couldn't care less about.

"Relationship?"

"Are you also going to have a nervous breakdown? I tell you, you wouldn't be as easy to handle as China was. I would need an entire army just to hold you still"

He laughed again, and Russia hugged himself around his soft belly, hiding his blushing face in his scarf. He looked at the American, who was still crying with laughter, and threw his salad at him before storming out of the restaurant, leaving the place in complete and absolute awkward silence.

He felt his eyes watering but he wouldn't cry. He was the former Russian Empire of Peter and Catherine the Great, the fear of Eastern Europe. He had won wars and had lost them with dignity. He once was the mighty Soviet Union. He had dealt with invasions, revolutions, bloodbaths and a single remark about his weight wouldn't make him cry.

But he cried in his way to his car. He cried like he had never allowed himself to. He was driving and wiping his eyes furiously when he spotted a picturesque bakery where he bought two dozen Ispahan macarons which he ate while driving and crying at the same time. He had tried dieting, but he wouldn't lose any weight and each day that passed, he felt fatter and uglier. His vision suddenly became blurry because of the tears.

Meanwhile, in the UN Building's restaurant, Canada excused himself from the table he was sharing with England and Sealand, who had been wandering through the building for two hours until the meeting was adjourned, and walked over to his brother, who was now eating his hamburger alone, with a little lettuce in the lapels of his uniform from the salad Russia had thrown at him.

"What happened, America?"

"How should I know? Commies are crazy"

Canada rolled his eyes and sat down.

"You shouldn't talk to him like that. He is a good person... in his own, particular way. He tries to be good, you shouldn't judge him for what he did or what he was in the past"

"But..."

"Would you like to be judged for what you did in the past? Shall I remind you of Hiro...?"

"Ok, you are right! I shouldn't have judged him!"

America said, not daring to touch the subject. It was still a bit touchy for him, even though no one believed him.

"You shouldn't have judged him like that and you mustn't judge him anymore"

"Ok... you know, for someone so shy and quiet like you are, you certainly are a pain in the ass whenever you want to"

America said as he paid the bill and left his brother with a smug smirk in his face. He had just achieved his goal and made America rethink his stupid behaviour. He was satisfied.

"Russia had an accident?"

Canada looked around searching for China when he heard his voice echoing through the restaurant, as did many other nations, although the vast majority couldn't care less about what happened to Russia.

"What happened?"

Canada asked when he found China, sitting with his fellow Asians. They didn't seem as startled by the news as he was. China turned around when he hung up and put his cell phone away.

"I'm surprised you care about Russia, America"

Canada sighed and rolled his eyes. Not that again...

"I'm Canada... you know, the guy who lives next to America?"

"Oh, right. I'm sorry, Canada"

"No problem, but what happened to Russia?"

"Apparently he had an accident and is in the ICU"

The news hit Canada like a train. After all... his feelings for Russia were not all too clear for him. All those times the Russian man had failed to notice him and sat on his lap made him feel a little tingle in the pit of his stomach that was not only embarrassment.

Canada caressed the pale skin on Russia's hand softly. He looked peacefully asleep and the room was in absolute silence until someone came in, with regret written all over his face.

"What are you doing here, America?"

Canada whispered, careful not to wake Russia, even though he knew that he wouldn't wake any time soon. America walked closer to the bed and sat in a small sofa, next to Canada's.

"Yeah... I was kinda feeling bad for the commie"

Canada rolled his eyes at his brother's last remark, but decided to leave it there.

"Also, I came because of China. He wanted to know how Russia was doing, but he had a meeting with the ambassador he couldn't postpone"

"I see... well, the doctors wouldn't tell me much because I'm not a relative, but..."

As his brother kept talking about what had happened when he had arrived at the hospital and asked to see Russia, America looked at the former's sleeping face and felt an ache in his chest. He didn't knew if it was because of how sorry he actually felt for having been the cause of the accident, or believing to have been so. Dressed in the hospital's robe, Russia looked even paler than he was... and almost as beautiful as an angel.

"What the hell?!"

America said, shocked by his own reflection. Canada was startled by his brother's sudden reaction and repeated the last sentence carefully so he would understand thinking that that was what America was talking about.

"I said that he would probably be here for about a month or so"

"Oh, yeah... that... I hadn't listened"

America said, embarrassedly rubbing the back of his neck after realising what he had said. He calmed himself and slowly sat back down next to his brother, who kept caressing Russia's hand. Somehow, he didn't like his brother being too close with the commie.


	2. Chapter 2

America closed the door behind him and slid down until he hit the floor with a soft thud. Bringing his knees closer to his chest, he heaved a deep sigh for everything that had happened in just a couple hours. He actually felt bad for the commie. After all, it was kind of his fault that he ended up in the ICU.

"God damn it!"

Suddenly, everything he had happened between he and Russia over the past decades flooded his mind: the cold shoulder they gave each other during the Cold War and the way he derided him after the fall of the "mighty" Soviet Union in the 90s... and everything until that afternoon. A knock on the door saved him from his own remorse. He stood up, put a fake smile on his face and opened the door to reveal his brother.

"Hello, America. Can I come in?"

America nodded and let his brother in before closing and locking the door. Canada sat down in one of the many sofas of America's living room. He crossed his legs and, before he could open his mouth to ask his brother something related to the hospital episode, America asked him bluntly.

"What were you doing with the commie, huh?"

"... I beg your pardon?"

Canada was startled a little by America's tone. The latter sighed and crossed his arms.

"Bro, I saw the way you were looking at him in the hospital... so, what is going on between you and the commie? Are you two together? Have you done it already? When? Where? Why? ... That's most important"

America panted and Canada blinked twice before calmly responding to his brother's many questions.

"Are you done?"

"I think so"

"The "commie" and I are not doing anything your dirty mind made up. We are nothing more than friends... actually I don't think we could be called that, given that we hardly speak"

America calmed himself a little after his brother's response and sat down next to him. Canada looked down at his lap and sighed deeply. America was not as dumb and clueless as everyone else thought; he knew exactly what that sigh meant: it was the sight of a broken heart. Not knowing what else to do, he wrapped one arm around his brother's shoulders and looked at him.

"Are you... in love with the commie, or something?"

Canada took his time to answer, given that he didn't know what exactly he felt for Russia. They hardly ever talked, and when they did, Russia usually mistook him for America, and when he didn't, he just said "Hello, Canada" and that was all. But all those years of "Hello, America... sorry, Canada" had made him feel a little something he didn't know what for the ex "commie".

"... I guess so"

"Oh, bro..."

America hugged him tightly and Canada rested his head on his brother's shoulder, staring blankly at the wall in front of them. America wanted to make his brother feel good, but something inside of him was not all too delighted with the idea of someone so close to him liking, or rather, loving an ex commie. He didn't know if it was because the one in love with Russia was his brother and he was feeling kind of over protective of him... or because he hadn't solved his own issues concerning the Russian man.

"... I don't know what to say"

"Don't say anything, America... just, let us stay like this for at least a minute or two"

Canada said, without taking his blank stare off the wall. America felt something in the pit of his stomach. He knew he wouldn't be of help to his brother in this confusing situation.

The following day, America cancelled a meeting with his boss and decided to visit Russia in the hospital, instead. Perhaps he would bring him some flowers, too. That's what they did in movies. Besides, that white room looked terribly creepy and he thought some colourful flowers would make it look a little more cheery.

He didn't know what kind of flowers did the commie liked, so he chose a bouquet of red roses... also as a little joke for himself too. The commie would wake up to see his favourite colour in a vase. Ha, ha.

When he arrived at the hospital, he went straight to the nurses' station and asked about his condition, saying that he was his cousin. A nurse said that he had waked up during the night, but was currently sleeping, which made it even better for America because he was kind of embarrassed to see the commie after everything that had happened.

He walked slowly into the bedroom and saw Russia sleeping comfortably against two fluffy pillows. He quickly put the flowers in an empty vase right in front of his bed and just when he was about to leave, he heard something that made him freeze right on the spot.

"America?"

Russia asked sleepily when he saw said man heading to the door. He had been dreaming about running around in a sunflower field in a warm summer afternoon and he immediately spotted the roses. They weren't his favourite flowers, but he didn't dislike them either. Then, after rubbing his eyes lazily, he came to the realisation that the flowers had been left by America.

"H-Hello, Russia"

America said, awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, avoiding looking directly at him. Suddenly, the anger Russia had felt the previous day banished when he looked at the bright red flowers.

"You brought flowers?"

"... I guess so"

There was awkward silence after America's ambiguous response. Russia coughed and America noticed the bandages on his head, almost hidden by the natural paleness of his skin and his beige hair.

"How are you feeling?"

Russia rubbed his head with a little frown in his face. It hurt, but not as bad as the night before.

"My head hurts a little. Asides from that, I'm ok"

"Glad to hear that"

And then there was awkward silence again. This time, America coughed to clear his throat.

"Well, I guess I'll be going now. I have a meeting with my boss and..."

"Yeah, go ahead"

"America?"

Canada asked from his place at the door and they both turned their heads.

"Oh, hi Canada. I'll leave you in good hands... bye, Russia"

And he left before Russia could even think of saying goodbye. Canada sat down next to his bed and looked at the flowers in the vase.

"Did he bring you those flowers?"

"Yep"

Russia said, almost as confused as Canada was by that fact.

"Well, that's... weird"

"Yes"

They both laughed, but Russia started coughing because his chest was still a little bit sore. Canada put his hand on his shoulder and helped him lay back against the pillows. Russia smiled at the gesture.

"I'm fine, thanks, Canada"

Canada smiled and they stayed in silence, but it wasn't as awkward as it was with America. Then Russia remembered something the nurse had told him when he woke up, at around 3:30 am that morning.

"The nurse told me you were the first one to get here and the last one out at midnight"

Canada blushed and rubbed the back of his neck, a habit he had picked from America.

"Yeah"

It was a bit awkward for him. He felt a little embarrassed to say the least. Russia put his hand over Canada's and smiled fondly.

"Thank you"

He had never had anyone care so much for him. Even America had brought him flowers... his former enemy. It felt a bit weird for him, being cared for so much. But it felt good. Suddenly, the door to his bedroom opened revealing a wide-eyed Belarus with dark bags under her eyes. It was obvious that she hadn't slept all night.

"Brother!"

She launched herself at him and hugged him as tight as she could, crushing his sore chest and making him cough loudly. Canada put his hand on her shoulder and tried to get her away from the wounded Russian. She turned around and glared at him, making his breath catch. She was certainly the creepiest girl he had ever seen.

"Bela, I'm fine... now let go, you are hurting me"

"I didn't sleep all night because of what had happened to you. I was told that you had had an accident at midnight and I spent all morning looking for the hospital in a cab... oh, by the way, I don't have money with me right now so I told him to charge it on your account"

Russia rolled his eyes and tried to ignore the burning pain in his chest as his sister tightened her grip around him. He pushed her apart from himself and looked at the frightened Canadian apologetically.

"Oh, Ukraine couldn't come because of her boss but she asked me to give you a hug from her, so..."

She hugged him tightly again and Russia pushed her away... again.

"Enough!"

"Ok, ok"

Belarus said, smoothing the wrinkles of her dress. She still looked like she could attack Russia with her bone-crushing hugs at any minute. Canada cleared his throat and she glared at him, and then looked at her brother.

"What is he doing here? Is he giving you trouble?"

She took out a knife from her apron and Canada stepped back in fear.

"He is Canada"

"Oh... sorry"

Belarus put her knife away, but Canada wasn't sure if he should take that as a sign to seat down and relax yet.

"But, anyways, what is he doing here? Is he your boyfriend?"

"Of course not! He is my friend!"

Russia said indignantly, making Canada's poor little heart hurt. He didn't know if what he had told his brother before was true, but what was true was that he felt something for the Russian, something that he clearly didn't feel for him. So he sighed and walked to the door.

"Goodbye, Russia"

Russia was surprised when Canada left his room, looking a bit crestfallen. He didn't want him to leave; he was the only true friend that had stayed at his side during his most difficult hours and now left the room as if nothing happened between the two of them. Belarus saw him leave and turned to her brother with a smirk on her face.

"He is giving us some privacy"

She attempted to kiss him, but he pushed her away with horror.

"We already had this conversation several times before! I need is my space and you need... medication"

Belarus huffed and rolled her eyes before sitting down at his brother's side. Russia didn't want to be alone, not because he was with his psychotic sister, but because he felt nice being with Canada and even with America.


	3. Chapter 3

It had been long since the accident that had left Russia in a hospital for almost a month. Every day he had woken up to see a vase full of red flowers, and even though they weren't his favourite, he came to like them. America was really thoughtful whenever he wanted to. Canada had visited him every day and he had grown to like the Canadian boy more than he should. Every night during those three weeks, America had visited Russia at night, or whenever he was sleeping, just to bring him the flowers he had picked for him in the beginning and sometimes he found himself looking for too long at Russia's sleeping face and realised he thought it was kind of cute.

On the other hand, Canada felt even more confused than he did when he was finding out about his own feelings for Russia. He still liked him, but he didn't feel that tingle in the pit of his stomach whenever he touched the Russian's hand. Even though, when he was discharged, he had insisted that Russia should spend the first nights in his house so he could take care of him properly. Russia had declined several times but, Canada's insistence was a trait that he had inherited, just like America's.

"Here we are, Russia. It's not as big as yours but..."

Canada said as he opened the front door for Russia, who was marvelled to see such a big and beautiful house. He left his suitcase on the floor at the entrance and looked in awe at the huge chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

"It's beautiful"

Canada blushed a little at the Russian's enthusiasm for his house. He thought it was cute.

"Oh... thank you. I'll show you your room"

Canada helped Russia carry his suitcase upstairs to one of the guest bedrooms. It was as big as the rest of the house, and exquisitely decorated with a Queen-sized bed right in the middle. Russia laid back on the bed as Canada placed the suitcase on one of the little sofas.

"It's really comfortable. Thank you, Canada"

"Oh, you don't have to thank me. That's what friends are for"

Suddenly, there was silence in the room, and neither of them knew what to say to the other or what to do. A loud knock on the front door saved them from their own awkwardness.

"I'll go see who is knocking so insistently. You stay here if you want"

Canada said before walking down the stairs, leaving Russia to enjoy the comfortable bed. He opened the door and his brother came in with a bouquet of red roses in his hand.

"Oh, America... what are you doing here? You rarely visit me"

"Yeah, well... I wanted to see how you and the commie were doing"

America felt embarrassed, to say the least, but he really did want to know how they were doing after Russia had left the hospital. Canada looked at the flowers in America's hands. He never liked the idea of his brother bringing flowers to someone he told him he liked, but he could understand why he had done it several times when Russia was at the hospital, but not now. He brought a vase filled with water where America put the bouquet.

"I see that you can't get rid of the old customs"

"What?"

America wasn't paying attention to his brother; he just wanted to know how Russia was. That was why he had gone to his house on the first place. Canada huffed.

"The flowers!"

"Oh, yeah... I thought, perhaps..."

"You don't have to explain yourself"

Canada said nonchalantly as he motioned for his brother to come in the living room, where he put the vase, but he _wanted_ him to explain himself. After all, he had confessed to him that he liked Russia in some way and he was bringing him flowers as if they were lovers. It was a weird habit his brother had picked... though not the weirdest.

"Sorry, bro. I don't want you to have the wrong idea about all this. I don't know what else I can bring to someone who just got out of the ICU"

_Nothing_, Canada thought but remained in silence instead. Russia came down the stairs, marvelled by the incredibly hot water that came out of his own private shower.

"Canada, I can't believe how wonderful your house is... America?"

Russia was confused to see the American, standing in the middle of the living room trying to block his sight of a vase with flowers that wasn't there when he first entered the house a couple minutes ago.

"Hi, Russia... I wanted to see how you were doing and... I guess I'll just leave"

America said, a little crestfallen before waving goodbye to them both and leaving the house in complete silence after his departure. Russia walked closer to the small table to examine the flowers.

"He brought those?"

Russia asked Canada, who nodded in response. Russia didn't know what to think of that gesture. He had never been given flowers by anyone. During the time he was at the hospital, he had grown accustomed to seeing America's roses in a vase, and there was a small part of him that loved the idea of him bringing him flowers every night without an apparent reason. But now that he was out of the hospital, it seemed strange to him to see the same flowers. He didn't know what America's motive was.

That night, after an awkward diner spent in complete silence in which Canada cooked and Russia washed the dishes, even though the former didn't want him doing anything rather than resting, Canada had taken enough courage to confess his feelings to Russia. So, when they were getting ready to go to bed, he knocked on the guest bedroom's door and Russia opened, wearing his blue pyjamas and pink scarf.

"Can I talk to you?"

Russia was a little confused as to why Canada wanted to talk to him at those hours, but let him in, anyways. Canada sat down in the bed and Russia closed the door.

"What is...?"

Before he could finish his sentence, Canada took a deep breath and thought: _Courage, Canada!_ Before saying:

"Russia, I... I like you"

Those words carried a huge weight that Canada had taken off his shoulders. Russia was dumbfounded, he didn't know what he felt for Canada, exactly, but he was sure he felt something for him. Just wasn't sure what it was.

"I think I like you too... Canada"

Russia sat down next to Canada. The moon was illuminating the entire bedroom, as the lights had been turned off a couple minutes ago. They were inches apart from each other, getting closer and closer until their lips touched. Canada had waited for this moment since he had realised he had feelings for Russia, and the former... wasn't too sure what he felt with that kiss, but it was warm, and everything warm was good for him. Canada found himself in the same situation: he didn't know what he felt and was even more confused than before he admitted his feelings to himself.

They broke apart after a couple seconds, looking at each other in the eyes, blushing brightly.

"I... liked that"

Russia said and Canada sighed, looking down at his lap. He decided to tell him the truth, or else...

"I don't know, Russia... I simply don't know anymore"

There were tears in his eyes and some rolled down his pale, flushed cheeks. Russia felt bad for the cute Canadian crying in front of him, so he wiped some tears with his thumb delicately. Canada didn't know what he felt for Russia anymore. If the kiss would have happened a month before, he would have cried of happiness, but now, he cried because he didn't know if what he had once felt for Russia was still there in his heart. Russia didn't know what he felt for Canada, either... but there was one thing sure between them, they weren't in love.

"Then why did you kiss me?"

Russia asked, clearly confused. Canada sighed, because he didn't even know what to answer.

"I had feelings for you in the past, just before you had the accident, but then... I don't even know what happened. Things changed, I suppose"

"Perhaps... we can stay as friends and forget the whole kissing thing"

Russia said, and Canada considered that option before nodding, still with tears in his eyes.

"I guess that would be the best"

In his bedroom, America was tossing a little red ball around, bouncing on the walls, then on the floor and then back in his hand. He had been doing this little routine for about an hour, as the wheels in his head kept turning and turning, thinking about Russia.

There was something special about him, even during the years when they were the worst enemies. That mysterious aura that surrounded him had always appealed America, and when he saw him in the hospital, so defenceless, always asleep, there was a slight tingle in the pit of his stomach.

He didn't know what he felt, but he was sure it was not hate. But if he didn't hate the commie...

Did he love him?

Months passed, and now Christmas was close. America had asked Russia if he would like to see the tree in the Rockefeller Centre in New York. Canada had decided to stay in his house and let his friend go with his brother alone. He had realised what his brother felt for Russia and wasn't as surprised as he thought he would have. He had given up on his own feelings for him, but he had made sure his brother didn't do the same.

It was cold and snowing, something that reminded Russia of his motherland. Suddenly, when the countdown ended, the crowd cheered when the huge tree was lit beautifully. Russia smiled at the spectacle and America looked at him. His pale skin glowed with the Christmas' lights and his violet eyes sparkled like those of a child's.

Russia hadn't even noticed when he had grabbed the American's hand and then realised how warm his hand felt. He looked down to see their intertwined fingers and looked up at those bright blue eyes.

"America..."

America put his finger on the Russian's lips, silencing him, before capturing them in a sweet kiss. Russia felt like a thousand Christmas trees had been lit in his heart and America couldn't even describe the marvellous sensation. The parted, breathless.

"So that's why you brought me so many flowers"

They both laughed as they walked to a flower shop where America bought him a large bouquet of roses, the "symbol of their love" as America later said.

Neither Russia nor America had ever felt happier.


	4. Chapter 4

America wiped some ketchup from the side of his boyfriend's mouth and they giggled happily, ignoring the stares from the other people.

"You could have told me I had it"

Russia said, still smiling and finishing his hamburger. He would never admit it, but he enjoyed America's food more than his own, but because of all the being-a-nation-stuff he had to cherish his own culture more than a foreign one, and that, unluckily in some cases, included the food.

"Nah, that would have been plain boring... and you know I am not plain boring"

America said with a smile on his face as he saw how his cute boyfriend enjoyed his hamburger and fries. He had never thought Russia would like his food after all he said during... well, during most of the last century when he was still the "Soviet Union". He still thought that name was dumb, but didn't dare to say such thing to him, after all, Russia was a little emotionally unstable and the last thing he wanted was his boyfriend suffering... or making his suffer.

They were lost in each other's eyes, but their trance was broken when an obnoxious, yet familiar voice, was heard from the other side of the restaurant yelling at a poor waitress who didn't look older than 18 years old.

"I told you I wanted my tea with sugar not sweetener!"

America huffed and Russia sank his head in his hands.

"You have got to be kidding me... England, what the hell are you doing here?"

The bastard looked mockingly surprised when America called him up from his table, and even dared to smile... bastard.

"Hello, America! I haven't seen you sitting there. I just wanted to try a new place to have my five o'clock tea but..."

"Its noon, England, so that means you are not having your damn tea, and even though I know what the answer is I will ask again: What the hell are you doing here?"

England sighed and walked to their table with his arms crossed. Russia didn't dare to look up from where he was keeping his head hidden.

"All right, you've caught me... I was checking if your "date" went according to plan and without any kind of... complications"

England said glaring discretely at Russia, though America could clearly see it and Russia could clearly feel the Englishman's piercing green eyes on him.

"First of all, it's not a "date" it's a date. Secondly, our date was going perfectly well until someone showed up. Can you guess who?"

America asked sarcastically. England sighed and leaned closer to the American, whispering in his ears because, even though he didn't like Russia very much, he didn't want to hurt his feelings... in part because he didn't want to wake up in a ditch beaten to death; which would be weird, because if he had been beaten to death, he wouldn't be waking up in the ditch, but... that's the English way of thinking.

"Look, America. I don't want to see you get hurt..."

"Look, England. I'm not going to get hurt. I'm not a baby anymore and you don't need to take care of me like if I was. I am a grown up and I can take my own decisions, like this one, for example"

America said with a smile before yanking Russia's head up and kissing his passionately, causing him to blush and England to fume like a teapot. When they parted, Russia couldn't help smiling like a fool in love... which he was, but he didn't want to tell America yet because he wasn't sure about the other's feelings towards him.

"America..."

Russia said dreamily, touching his lips lightly with the tip of his slender fingers. England, on the other hand, didn't look pleased at all.

"America!"

"Wow, it's seems as my name has become really popular"

America said with a proud grin, taking his boyfriend's hand and leaving the restaurant, not before insisted to pay the bill like the gentleman he was. England was left dumbfounded, standing in the middle of the restaurant looking as the allegedly "happy couple" left hand in hand. The waitress approached him with his cup of tea... the poor gal was trembling like a leaf, but she had to serve the costumers nevertheless.

"S-Sir... y-your tea"

England slapped the tray off the girl's hands and left the restaurant.

America kicked the door closed behind him as Russia sat down in the couch, giggling happily as they had since they left a flabbergasted England back in the restaurant with a twitching eye. America loved to make England mad, especially when he was being a jerk, which was... almost all the time. Someone needs to have a good lay.

"What are you doing there?"

Russia asked, turning around making America realise that he had been standing in the middle of the hall while thinking about England's abstinence-related bitterness. He smiled and sat next to his boyfriend, embracing him as they continued to watch... wait... why was the TV on?

"Shit, there's a ghost!"

America yelled and nearly jumped out of the window. No one saw the blonde Canadian walk back to the living room with a bowl of popcorn in his hand and a polar bear hanging from his shoulder... digging his claws painfully in his skin.

"Hmm... America?"

"Oh, Canada... right... hmm... hi"

America said nonchalantly while he came down from the table, smoothing his uniform.

"I was going to watch a movie... I guess I should ask if you would like to join me"

"Thanks, bro"

America sat back down on the couch, grabbing Canada's popcorns and eating them like if he hadn't eaten three lunches... which he had.

Russia cleared his throat as he glared at his boyfriend, who looked at him sheepishly and spoke with a mouthful.

"Would you like some?"

Russia grabbed the bowl from America's hands and gave it back to Canada, not taking his eyes off his boyfriend.

"I might as well use a whiplash to..."

Realising what he had just implied, Russia blushed and decided to shut his mouth, but not before America approached him with a smirk and a light blush on his face.

"I would like that... baby"

America purred in his ear, but Russia just pushed him away with a face redder than a tomato, covering it with his gloved hands. America leaned back on the couch laughing.

"Ok... I think I have somewhere to go now, so... bye"

Canada said as he slowly walked out of the living room, not wanting to see what that embarrassing pseudo chat would lead to. He had already given up on his confusing feelings for Russia and they were now good friends... but his now-good friend was dating his brother, so he didn't want to know anything about their relationship.


End file.
